


the way muscles work

by gigantic



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigantic/pseuds/gigantic
Summary: Auston will make out with anybody when he’s drunk.





	the way muscles work

Auston will make out with anybody when he’s drunk. He knows this about himself, and that’s why, as some of the boys prepare to hit a bar and celebrate, he tells Freddie to cut him off after four.

“I’ve already had one less-than-genius night this season,” Auston says.

“Not fun?”

“ _Too_ fun.” Auston’s learned over the past couple of years that he likes casual sex as much as the next guy, but he’d rather not have any more pictures of him sleeping in strangers’ beds make the rounds on Snapchat.

Freddie rolls his eyes and says, “So now I have to babysit?”

“No, just, you know. Check in.”

He trusts Freddie. It doesn’t matter that Freddie scoffs; Auston knows he’ll make good and keep him honest.

So, Auston drinks with the guys, laughs and dances a little, mostly in their booth. At least an hour goes by before he lets a hot brunette coax him out onto the dance floor for a few songs, which counts as incredibly responsible, he’s pretty sure. Auston’s nailing it.

Unfortunately — luckily — they’re too buzzed to maintain the rhythm and give up in favor of seeking a kiss in the middle of a Drake remix.

Her lips are kind of sticky and faintly sweet. Maybe a flavored lip gloss, he thinks. It’s not his favorite, usually, but he’s just buzzed enough that his brain keeps the kiss going in part because he’s absently trying to confirm it’s not just his imagination.

When the song ends, Auston says he needs another drink. He makes his way through the small crowd and finds a spot at the bar. While he’s waiting to order, another girl compliments his shirt and asks if he’s been a fan of Abloh for a long time. Auston talks streetwear with her. After five minutes of debating brands, not buying her a shot seems out of the question. He has to give props to good taste. By the fifteen-minute mark, they don’t even make it to a corner or anything before she goes for the kiss. What’s Auston going to do? Not oblige? Her mouth is less glossy. It’s good overall.

“Hey, I’ve been waiting forever,” some guy says, bumping Auston’s shoulder and breaking his flow. He looks around and—oh, it’s Freddie.

“What do you mean?” Auston asks.

“My drink,” Freddie says, swiping a shot glass when the bartender drops a new round for Auston and his new friend. Kayley. Hailey. Something. Bailey! 

Instead, Freddie toasts Bailey and downs Auston’s alcohol. 

“Hey!”

Freddie lays a hand on Auston’s shoulder and leans past him, saying, “Sorry, I have to steal this one.”

“Why?” Auston asks, but he shuffles along when Freddie starts guiding him away. He doesn’t go quietly, protesting as loud as he can to be heard over the music. “Way to cockblock.”

“You told me to,” Freddie says easily.

No, Auston didn’t. “Since when?”

“Earlier. When we got here. You said stop you after four.”

Oh, right. “I had six, with the shot. Technically.”

“Sorry,” Freddie says. “Come on, I ordered an Uber.”

Auston is drunk. It hits him in a way he really notices once they step outside into the Toronto cold. He isn’t completely out of sorts, but he lists toward Freddie anyway, grateful that he’s there and solid, keeping Auston tethered. 

“Dude,” he says. It feels like it encompasses all of Auston’s thoughts and emotions. 

Those girls were beautiful. He probably could’ve gone home with one of them, which would be better than standing in the cold. Freddie would have had to head out by himself, though, which kind of blows. Then again, Freddie could’ve just found his own person to have a good night with.

“You didn’t pick up?” Auston asks.

Freddie looks at him, expression kind of flat and tired. No. Just tipsy, maybe. He did take a last-minute extra shot. The corners of his mouth tug higher slightly, but it isn’t quite a grin. “Kind of had to babysit a friend.”

Snorting, Auston says, “What a douche,” and perches his chin on Freddie’s shoulder. Freddie’s cologne wafts past Auston’s nose. He smells like something kind of rich and woodsy, but in a luxurious way. Freddie smells like glamping.

When their car arrives, Auston follows that scent into the backseat. Freddie says hello to their driver as Auston presses his face into Freddie’s neck and uses his shoulder as a makeshift pillow.

“I need water,” he mumbles.

Freddie leans forward, interrupting Auston’s attempts to get comfortable. He holds out a small water bottle when he sits back again and says, “Magic.”

“Those were in here?” Auston asks, and then raises his voice to ask the driver. “Are these for us?”

“Yeah. Go ahead, man.”

Auston could kiss this guy. Or Fred for noticing the water. Since he can’t really reach past the seat to get to the driver, he opens his water, drinks and then slumps into Freddie again, kissing right underneath his jaw. “What a hero.”

Freddie chuckles. “That’s all it takes?”

Auston presses his lips to Freddie’s skin another time, enjoying the way Fred shifts, squirming. He laughs low again. “Small victory to you. Huge to me.”

God, Freddie just smells so nice.

He raises his arm and drapes it over Auston too, settling, so Auston’s quickly cocooned in the scent of him. He noses at Freddie’s neck, indulging in the warm, sludgy feeling he gets from alcohol. Loose and a little starved for proximity.

“You smell good,” he says.

“Thanks,” is all Freddie says, but he doesn’t stop Auston from outright sniffing him. Auston seeks out warmth and hides another kiss on Freddie’s skin. One, two, three. He tilts his face up and kisses over the line of Freddie’s jaw, using the curve of bone to swipe up to Freddie’s cheek.

“Matts,” Freddie sighs. “You’re cut off, remember?”

“From drinking,” Auston whispers.

He’s being good. He has water now, and he’s simply saying thank you. Kisses are innocent. Even when he drops down again, opening his mouth enough to lick a little, paying special sucking attention to one delicate spot.

Freddie tips his head away, breaking contact. “Careful.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave a mark,” Auston says. Freddie would look good with one though. He has pretty pale skin in the winter. It would stand out.

Freddie fixes him with a look, clearly unconvinced. Auston smiles and darts in, catching the corner of his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Freddie sort of huffs out, and Auston snickers. 

“Caught you.”

“You didn’t tell me you’re a brat when you drink a lot.”

“I’m not.” Auston does his best to give Freddie his most harmless expression. Nothing mischievous here. He’s just a boy with a buzz trying to get home. 

Freddie shakes his head but keeps looking back. Auston recognizes it as funny somewhere in the rear of his mind, the two of them staring at each other in the backseat of some SUV like it’s a contest, but the laugh doesn’t quite make it out of him. Eventually, throwing the round becomes more interesting too, Auston ducking forward to press a kiss right on Freddie’s chin. It doesn’t make Freddie jerk this time, as if he’s braced for the attack. Auston lingers, close enough to feel Freddie’s exhale. If there’s—he’s unsure, suddenly, what they’re playing at here. His eyes look from Freddie’s mouth to his eyes and down one more time. He catches Freddie doing the same thing.

“Let me, uh,” he starts and cranes in. Freddie opens for him, just enough, their lips colliding unevenly in a kiss.

Freddie has a soft mouth. That is Auston’s first thought, and then he shifts in, trying for a better angle. Freddie’s bottom lip is fuller, tempting Auston to nip at it. He’s gentle.Tugs softly. The throaty sound that comes from Freddie doesn’t even quite qualify as a moan. Auston smiles into the kiss and tips his head.

Making out is the _best_. Quiet seconds help them find a rhythm. Freddie’s hand braces Auston’s side delicately, his fingers five warm points grazing Auston’s ribs through his shirt. This is his favorite part, when the pieces all figure out how to fit and the sensation of his lips brushing Freddie’s feels so natural he can start getting lost.

“Wait.”

Fuck. Unless Freddie wants air. 

Auston tries to follow as he shifts back, but Freddie tightens his grip on Auston’s side. He keeps their faces apart. “Not too much fun, remember?”

“But I know you,” Auston says. He just wants to go back to the kissing.

Freddie leans in close again, a breath away, and stops short. Auston groans. It’s not his smoothest moment, but it gets his point across. Laughing softly, Freddie whispers, “You’re dangerous.”

“You’re annoying.” Auston leans.

Freddie dodges. “There’s a driver.”

“He’s not looking.”

Freddie smiles but doesn’t oblige. He nudges Auston until he drops against the seatback. “You were right about you drunk. You go out of your way to find trouble.”

“Maybe I’m naturally good at it,” Auston says but sighs. He knocks a foot into Freddie’s, pleased when Freddie doesn’t make him stop. Testing the waters just feels right. Auston lifts his leg enough to drag the hem of Freddie’s pant leg higher. He doesn’t even really reach skin, not when they’re both wearing socks, but Freddie’s hand smacks down on Auston’s thigh anyway, halting him.

Freddie raises an eyebrow. Auston laughs and rolls his body, extending his leg more and slumping into the seat so that he takes up most of the space. He reaches toward Freddie’s fingers, bouncing his index in the spaces between Freddie’s own, back and forth. It gets Freddie’s attention. He looks down and then to Auston’s face, allowing his nonsense for a minute before he flips his wrist and catches Auston, holding his hand hostage.

“Rude,” Auston says.

“Behave,” Freddie says.

Auston rolls his eyes. He flexes his fingers, and Freddie brings his other hand down over Auston’s, making him still.

Giving up isn’t really his style, but now that he’s 75 percent horizontal, Auston is also too comfortable to put up more of a fight. He rolls his head against the seat a little, glancing at the driver. The dude hasn’t said a single thing more, and Auston can’t quite tell if he’s glancing into the rear view mirror from this view. Freddie’s looking at him when Auston turns his head back, face tilted.

Auston shrugs but settles.

The drive doesn’t last much longer. At this hour, traffic moves quickly, and Auston only gets to replay kissing Freddie in slow-motion in his mind six times maximum. Basically no time at all.

He feels kind of bereft when the car pulls up to his building but mostly still drunk. He has to peel himself off the seat and untangle from Freddie.

“Thanks, man,” he says to the driver. He pauses before he thrusts himself outside, looking over his shoulder and unable to resist letting a little sweetness and sarcasm seep into his voice as he adds, “Thanks, Fred.”

“Night,” Freddie says.

Auston exits on the street side, so he walks around the trunk, digging for his keys as he goes. When he’s halfway to the entrance, he hears, “Matts! Hold on.”

Turning, Auston sees Freddie half-jogging to get to him. He smiles as Freddie comes nearer.

“Knew you couldn’t resist,” he jokes, but honestly he’s confused as Freddie holds something out.

Scoffing, Freddie says, “I think your wallet fell.”

“Oh.” That’s less exciting but probably important.

He takes the wallet, surprised when Freddie keeps ahold and lets himself be tugged closer. He finally relinquishes the thing when they’re a few inches apart. Auston holds eye contact as he stuffs the wallet in his pocket.

Freddie doesn’t keep him suspended in confusion for long. He eliminates the gap, tipping in slightly to catch Auston’s mouth.

The booze has Auston’s brain all fizzy, and pressing his lips to Freddie’s makes him feel like that loopy sensation doubles, balloons. He grabs hold of Freddie’s sleeve to maintain balance and cocks his head enough to deepen the kiss. Chilled night air does nothing to make Auston feel less like heat is snaking through his belly. 

Freddie touches two fingers to Auston’s jaw, nudging. There’s nothing forceful about it, and yet Auston’s brain lights up at the thought that Freddie’s putting him where he wants. His mouth is plush and soft, tongue coaxing Auston’s lips apart and seeking more for a few glorious, delicious seconds, until a car horn honks and cuts them off before Auston’s mind spirals so far that he asks Freddie to follow him upstairs.

“Sorry,” Freddie whispers. “Can’t keep the car waiting.”

Auston exhales and blinks. Holy fuck. “Holy fuck.” When he actually says it aloud, the words stutter out raspier than he means. He clears his throat.

Freddie smiles. At least, Auston’s pretty sure he does. It’s hard to tell when Freddie bumps their heads together right after, an oddly playful move that throws Auston off even more. A couple minutes ago, Freddie was holding him at bay.

“You’re a tease,” Auston says, and Freddie actually laughs at that.

He pats Auston’s shoulder and rocks back, stepping a pace away. “Get some sleep. You might change your mind in the morning.”

He walks backwards as he retreats. Auston shakes his head, saying, “Pretty sure I’ll still think you’re a tease.”

“Good _night_ , Auston,” Freddie says. “Don’t have six drinks in the future.”

“Wait, what?” Auston asks, raising his voice as Freddie gets to the car.

Freddie waves and shrugs, then ducks into his rideshare and goes. 

Auston watches the car until it turns a corner. As he walks inside, he takes out his cell and texts, “What does that mean?” He taps the phone screen a few times and presses send without actually weighing any pros or cons.

He doesn’t get an answer until he’s made it into his place. “Find out,” Freddie writes. He really is a fucking tease, Auston thinks, but he’s a sucker for a challenge. Fine. He’s game.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write a little about kissing, so i did. the end!


End file.
